


Christmas Do-Over

by TheVagabondBoy



Series: Shoot the Sunshine into My Veins [12]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Begging, Boot Worship, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 23:04:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13223112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVagabondBoy/pseuds/TheVagabondBoy
Summary: Christmas is rough for Frank, since…since his family.He's glad that Matt doesn't try to 'fix' it, but instead accepts it for what it is, and maybe that helps cope with it all a little.





	Christmas Do-Over

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alohdark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alohdark/gifts), [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts), [LadyOfSalt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOfSalt/gifts), [kolettshepard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kolettshepard/gifts).



> Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year!

It was December 26 th , and Frank was on edge.

It was weird. It was all just... _ weird. _

He knew Matt liked Christmas decently enough, and yet...

All of December had been like any other month, not a single mention of Christmas at all. Not even on the Eve itself,  _ or _ the morning after. And now it was the 26 th , and Frank was getting sick of this.

Because it was because of  _ him, _ wasn’t it?

Matt was doing this whole... _ kid gloves _ thing with him, because of  _ everything. _ Because he knew how much Frank hated the holidays, since...since his family died.

All he could think about was Lisa and Junior. All he could think about, was how they would never get to have another Christmas. They’d never get to wake up early on Christmas morning, run down the stairs, and find the presents piled high under the tree, play in the snow and drink hot cocoa and wear ugly Christmas sweaters.

And while he didn’t want, for even a second, to celebrate, he didn’t want to be treated like he was made of glass either. But that’s what Matt was doing. He was pretending it was any month but December, like the snow wasn’t piled high on the window sills and the city didn’t shine with red and green lights.

Frank had waited all through Christmas Eve, and Christmas morning, for the other shoe to drop, for Matt to bring it up and want to talk about it.

But it didn’t happen.

And Frank was somehow even angrier because of it. He didn’t even know why.

*

“What’re you doin’?”

Matt stopped, hands stilling in the middle of scrubbing a plate from dinner. He turned his head towards where Frank stood beside him, leaning back against the counter, and looked truly confused.

“Excuse me?” he asked. “I’m...not sure what you’re talking about.”

Frank scoffed to himself. He crossed his arms tightly, hiding his hands. He hated it when Matt saw them shake. He always got all worried about it. Frank didn’t need  _ that _ right now too.

“You’re bein’ all... _ you _ about it.” he muttered.

Matt’s brows furrowed, his confusion seemingly just deepening. He set the plate and sponge down, and ran his hands under the tap to wash off the suds. He turned to Frank fully, as he dried his hands off.

“About what?”

The marine sighed. Matt was really going to  _ make him _ say it.

“Y’know...?”

Matt cleared his throat. He wrung the towel around his hands, almost nervously.

“Yeah. I...” he said lowly.

He exhaled a heavy breath.

“They mentioned Christmas on TV back in November. And I...kinda heard how you reacted.” Matt explained. “You...got all tense. And your heart rate spiked. And your breathing too. I just thought, maybe you didn’t wanna celebrate. And I know it’s because of your...your family.”

Frank could feel himself react just like Matt described; his shoulders tensed, his heart skipped, the breath seemed to be punched out of his lungs.

“And I don’t hold it against you.” Matt said quickly, reaching out and resting his hand on Frank’s arm. “Please don’t think I do.”

Frank let his eyes fall closed.

“So I just thought...let’s not make a big deal out of it. I don’t really care too much about Christmas either, or about celebrating, or any of it.” the blind man continued. “So I...didn’t make a big deal out of it.”

That was...Frank wasn’t sure what to say. It was  _ sweet, _ in a way, he supposed. He just...still felt like he was made of glass. And he  _ really _ didn’t like that feeling. He didn’t like feeling like Matt was being  _ careful _ with him.

“I don’t...”

Matt squeezed his arm gently as Frank spoke. When the words died on Frank’s tongue, Matt stepped closer. He wrapped his arm around Frank’s waist, resting his head on the man’s shoulder.

“I...I wanna celebrate. Sorta.” Frank admitted softly. “But it just...just thinkin’ about it feels like...like I’m steppin’ on their, their  _ memory, _ y’know?

Matt nodded. He pressed a long kiss to Frank’s shoulder. It was sweet.

“How about this, then.” he said. “Tomorrow, December 27 th , is Christmas Do-Over.”

What?

Frank’s face scrunched up in confusion at that.

“What the hell’s a Christmas Do-Over?” he questioned.

Matt smiled. “Exactly what it sounds like.” he explained. “It’s Christmas, but for you and me. It’s a do-over. We skipped actual Christmas, so we have to have a do-over. And...it’s for  _ Frank now. _ Actual Christmas was for  _ Frank then, _ with Maria and Junior and Lisa. Christmas Do-Over is for  _ Frank now, _ with Matt.”

That...

That sounded kind of nice.

“Can you...say the thing?”

Matt’s soft smile just widened. “I love you. You love me too?”

Frank nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

*

December 27 th .

Christmas Do-Over.

It was weird.

From the moment he woke up, it felt weird. It still felt like...like he was being sort of disrespectful. Towards Maria, and Lisa and Junior. A little bit. A tiny part of him wanted to throw up at the thought of celebrating without them.

But another part of him, a part that kind of also made him a little sick, said it was okay.

It said that...they were gone. And he wasn’t. He was alive. He was still alive, so...maybe it was okay to live. And he knew that tiny voice at the back of his mind was right too; the voice that told him that they wouldn’t want him to go back to the way he had been after them, before Matt. Before Matt, he might as well have died with them in the park. But after Matt? It was hard to explain, hard to put into words. Matt made him feel at least sort of like he was alive. And Maria would have wanted him to cling to that shred of life, the kids too. They’d want him to cling to it with all he had left in him and never let go of it.

So maybe celebrating just a little bit, was okay.

*

They spent the whole day lazing around in their pajamas, cuddling on the couch and drinking hot cocoa. They traded back rubs and foot rubs, and fed each other the unmelted pieces of marshmallows they fished out of their cocoa and spritzes of whipped cream from the can. They made pasta for dinner. They cooked and talked and laughed and drank cheap wine, and while the sauce puttered, they slow danced to whatever crappy Christmas music was on the radio.

It was nice. It was...comfortable. It didn’t feel like Christmas, but it also  _ did _ feel like Christmas somehow. It wasn’t the whole  _ traditional _ Christmas feeling, but it was still the same somehow. It was that comfortable sense of being able to relax, and breathe, and just watch the snow fall.

Frank kind of liked Christmas Do-Over.

*

“So...”

Frank looked up from his cocoa. “Yeah?”

Matt cleared his throat. He sat up a little straighter, pulling away from where he had been cuddled up against Frank’s side.

“So I might’ve bought _a_ _thing._ Back in October.” the blind man told him. “I stumbled upon it, and I just couldn’t really resist it, but then...when I noticed how you reacted to, y’know, the mention of Christmas, I kinda just...put it away and tried to forget about it. _But,_ seeing as we have our Do-Over now, maybe I can bring it out?”

Okay, color Frank curious.

“Uh...okay. Is it...I mean, is it a gift, or somethin’?” he asked. “’Cause...I don’t really have one for you, y’know?”

Matt placed his hand on Frank’s knee, giving it a gentle little squeeze, and smiled. “Don’t worry. It’s... _ kind of _ a gift. But it’s kind of a gift for both of us.” he said.

As cryptic as that sounded, Frank was still curious as hell.

Frank cleared his throat, laying a hand over Matt’s. “Okay. Yeah.” he said.

Matt’s smile widened. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Frank’s cheek, before untangling himself from their mess of pillows and blankets, and getting up.

“Okay, I just need to get it ready.” he said. “So gimme a minute?”

The marine nodded. “Sure.”

“Great!” Matt said, smile beaming, and ran off to the bedroom.

Frank sat back and sipped his cocoa.

He was enjoying this a lot more than he thought he would. It still had that  _ Christmas-but-not-Christmas _ feeling to it, but it didn’t  _ bother _ him as much as it had just earlier in the day. He supposed he had been a little scared of what the Do-Over celebration would entail. He was glad that it had turned out to just be...a day with Matt. A quiet day, where they didn’t do anything at all and didn’t think about anything outside the walls of the apartment. It didn’t feel like he was leaving the memory of his family behind; it felt like he was just...starting to accept that he was still alive, and that maybe he deserved to have even just the slightest semblance of an actual life.

And as much as that thought hurt,  _ and fuck, did it hurt like hell, _ he knew it was for the best.

He knew it was what  _ they _ would have wanted for him, what his family would have wanted for him.

“Hey, babe?” Matt called from behind the closed bedroom door.

Frank looked up again, waking from his thoughts. “Yeah, sunshine?” he answered.

“Could you do me a favor and close the curtains?” the blind man asked.

Close the curtains? Why was he closing the curtains?

“Why?” he questioned.

Even with a wall between them, Frank knew Matt would be rolling his eyes and sighing at him. “Can you just do it, please?” Matt said. “For me?”

Frank was a fucking push-over sometimes.

He sipped his cocoa quickly, then set it aside on the coffee table and got up. It didn’t take him much more than a minute to draw the curtains closed over all the big windows. Even through the drapes, that goddamn billboard was illuminating the apartment quite a decent bit. He would have to remember to get up on that building across the street and break that piece of shit billboard, to give his eyes a goddamn rest. Hell, he wasn’t even sure why he hadn’t done it already.

The bedroom door slid open somewhere behind him, just as he was drawing the last curtain to a close.

_ “Merry Christmas Do-Over.” _

Frank turned around and  _ goddamn, how did Matt look that amazing in a [sexy Santa costume?](http://www.malltop1.com/UpLoad/Pro_Images_02/o_Dark-Santa-Adult-Costume-N10907_27_57_925.jpg) _

The dress looked to be made of some kind of felt, a dark wine red in color. The cuffs and collar and hem were all decorated with black fur. Even the Santa hat on Matt’s head was done with black, instead of the traditional white. The dress was reminiscent of a coat, really; the front was all open, only kept from slipping off Matt’s shoulders by a thin red ribbon. This, of course, exposed quite a lot of Matt’s wide, muscular chest. His milky white skin  _ begged _ to be tasted. His hands, clad in black gloves, rested on his hips. His legs looked never-ending when they were adorned by those boots; black leather and fur reaching to his knee, small wedge heels giving him some three extra inches of height.

“Hi, Francis.”

Frank’s insides melted and his dick was hard in no time at all.  _ Damn these sweatpants and how easily they tented. _

“Hi?” he answered hesitantly.

Matt smiled.

No, it wasn’t a smile; it was a smirk, a mean smirk that made him look like a predator about to pounce on its prey.

“My name is Mistress.” Matt said. “Do you know why I’m here?”

Frank shook his head.

That evil grin grew wider.

Matt,  _ Mistress?, _ moved away from the door. Frank found himself both incapable and unwilling to move a muscle, as Matt crossed through the room. He came to stand before Frank, nary a foot of space between them. Frank inhaled a sharp breath, as a silken glove caressed his cheek.

“I’m here because you’ve been a good boy this year.  _ I’m your reward. _ Sort of.”

The hand gave Frank’s cheek a clap, almost playful in nature, before Matt easily turned on his toes. The ball of black fuzz at the end of the Santa hat bounced around his shoulders.

_ “So. _ Let’s go over some ground rules.” the blind man continued as he draped himself over the closest armchair. “Well, my  _ two _ rules.”

He crossed those long, beautiful, statuesque legs; Frank wanted to run his tongue along them, taste each and every inch of their length, feel the powerful muscles under his lips. As the dress rode up Matt’s thighs, Frank could see hints of black lace underneath. He wondered which lovely pair of panties Matt had chosen for the occasion.

“Rule number one.” Matt said, holding up the index finger of his right hand, as if to remind Frank what  _ one _ meant. “You will address me as  _ Mistress. _ Always. Failure to do so, will lead to punishment. After all, we must show our betters the respect they deserve. Isn’t that right, Francis?”

Frank nodded jerkily. His mouth was all dry. He felt like he’d been dunked in a pot of boiling water, his skin burned with heat. Matt raised his middle finger then, reminding Frank of what came after  _ one. _

“Rule number two. I am a god, you are a believer.” Matt said, his grin toothy and cruel. “A worshiper. A slave to my will. Understood?”

Frank nodded again. “Yes. Yeah. Yeah.”

His voice was rough and dry, telling exactly what he thought about Matt in that moment.

Matt uncrossed his legs, and crossed them again the the other way, presenting his right boot towards Frank.

“Did you already forget the first rule, Francis?”

First rule? What was the first rule? Frank racked his brain, what the hell was it? Matt said it just a minute ago, how could Frank have forgotten already? He swallowed the knot his tongue had become, to be able to speak.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” he said quickly. “Mistress. I’m sorry, Mistress.”

Matt hummed, toying with the fur on one of his cuffs. “An apology is all well and good, I suppose. But words are nothing.  _ Action _ speaks.” he decided. “Do you know how slaves apologize?”

“No.” Frank said before he could stop himself, but at least he was quick to correct himself. “No,  _ Mistress.” _

“They lick their Mistress’ boot.”

Frank stared, lost for words. He was just...very much aroused, a little bit scared, and a pinch confused.

Matt exhaled an exasperated sigh, wiggling his right foot in Frank’s direction.

“What are you waiting for, Francis?” he asked, though Frank was reasonably certain that it was rhetorical. “I can’t forgive you if I don’t know how sorry you are.”

As if burned with a hot fire poker, Frank jumped to action.

He hurried over to where Matt,  _ Mistress, _ sat and sank to his knees. The mean grin frilled Matt’s face again as Frank carefully cradled the shiny leather boot in his hands. Frank swallowed dryly. He had never done this before; he wasn’t quite sure where to start. Was he just supposed to...lick it? Or was there some special way to go about it?

“I don’t have all day, Francis.” Matt hummed, voice dripping with annoyance.

Okay...he supposed he would learn by doing, then.

Frank stuck his tongue out, finding the point of the boot. The leather tasted...it didn’t really taste like much. At least it didn’t taste  _ bad, _ so there was that, he supposed. He lapped over the boot, drawing little kitten licks all the way from the point, to the zipper that started at the ankle. Whether he was doing it right or not, he wasn’t sure. His efforts had to be satisfactory enough, though, seeing as Matt made no comment on it. He simply sat there, smiling down at Frank from on high.

“I-I’m sorry, Mistress.” Frank said hesitantly, stopping only for a moment.

Matt jerked his foot free from Frank’s hands. He leaned forward and Frank, who kept his eyes cast down, felt that same silken glove pet his hair gently.

“I know, Francis.” Matt said. “Your apology is accepted. You are forgiven.”

Somehow it suddenly felt as though someone had been gripping his lungs tightly with both hands, but had finally released him, upon hearing those last three little words. He could breathe.

“Thank you, Mistress. Thank you.”

He could just die, Matt’s hand on his head felt so good.

“Do you promise to be a  _ good boy _ next year too, Francis?”

“Yes, Mistress. I-I promise.” Frank answered raptly. “I’ll be good, Mistress.”

Matt hummed, petting Frank’s hair so sweetly.

“That’s good.” he said. “But let’s get to your reward, shall we?”

Frank resisted the urge to beg for the hand to  _ stay _ in his hair, when Matt withdrew. He watched,  _ enchanted, _ as Matt uncrossed his legs. He stood up from the chair and turned around, standing on his knees on the seat of the very same chair. The skirt rode up as Matt leaned over the backrest, displaying all the wonderful thing underneath to Frank’s hungry eyes. Pale white cheeks, still lightly bruised from Frank’s own hands, separated by a thin length of black satin. God, Frank loved it when Matt wore thongs.

“Use your mouth, Francis.”

_ Oh, dear God in Heaven... _

Frank was going to choke on his own damn tongue.

“I’m waiting, Francis...”

Again, Frank acted as though burned by a red-hot metal.  _ Shit, _ Matt’s ass felt amazing under his hands.

Matt kicked one leg out. The sole of his boot struck Frank in the center of the chest, both throwing him back onto the floor  _ and _ punching the breath from his lungs.

_ What the hell was that for?! _

“I said  _ mouth, _ Francis!” Matt reminded sternly. “Don’t make me punish you.”

_ Shit. _

“I’m sorry, Mistress.”

It felt a little...good, to say that.  _ Mistress. _ The word,  _ the name, _ felt good as it rolled over his tongue and passed his lips. It felt  _ right, _ somehow.

God, fuck, Matt was so good, he always knew what Frank needed.

The marine shuffled back onto his knees, moving a little closer. He clasped his hands tightly behind his back to keep from using them. He wasn’t allowed. Mistress said not to. He had to listen to Mistress, and do as he was told, and be a good boy. If he was good, he’d get rewarded, right?

He stood up on his knees to reach. With his nose, he managed to get in under the fluff of the fur and push the dress back, until he found the hem of Matt’s panties. They were tight, it was hard to get a good grip on them. He had to use his tongue; he hooked it under the waist string, and pulled it back as far as he could, until he could bite down on it. After that, it was pretty easy to drag the panties down over Matt’s ass to his thighs.

“I don’t have all day here, Francis.” Mistress reminded. “Good boys don’t keep their Mistress waiting. You wanted to be a good boy, didn’t you?”

Frank nodded to himself, staring at the ass that he had before him and drinking in its beauty. “Yeah. Yes, I’m good, Mistress. Sorry for being slow, Mistress.” he said.

Frank hadn’t meant to be slow, hadn’t meant to make Mistress wait. He had just had to take a moment, to  _ look _ at his Mistress’ beautiful body.

But he wanted to be good too, and that meant no more wasting time.

Without his hands to help, it was a little more awkward than usual to slip his tongue between those perfect, round cheeks and find that enchanting little hole. But he found it, that he could be sure of; Mistress, Matt moaned softly at it. God, how it sounded like music. He felt his Mistress’ hand in his hair again. It grabbed on tightly and dragged his face even closer. Frank did his best, he did all the things he knew Matt liked. He pushed and pressed and lapped at the rim, and teased slowly inside. Matt’s noises were amazing. They seemed to electrify Frank’s whole body, escalating with each little sound, until he felt like a frayed wire. He felt overloaded, like sparks were flying.

The hand in his hair pulled harder, dragging him away from his task. It was easy for Mistress to shove him back onto the floor again. He could only sit and watch in awe, as Matt got up. He stood over Frank for a moment, one silk-clad hand stroking his cock as the panties slid down his legs.

“What’re you waiting for, Francis?  _ Suck my cock.” _

Frank didn’t hesitate to get on his knees again, hands still clasped behind his back; Mistress didn’t say he could use them.

He had barely closed his lips over the head, when Matt’s hands were in his hair again, when they dragged him in, when they forced Matt’s cock into his throat. His eyes watered, nails digging into his own hands and arms, as he choked and gagged on it. Matt just moaned, holding him still where he was.

Frank gasped for air when Matt let him up; he coughed and gagged still, tears flooding down his cheeks. He looked up at his Mistress as best he could, though. He didn’t want to miss that expression of bliss that  _ he _ put on his Mistress’ face, didn’t want to miss a second of it. But Matt would have no more of it, it seemed. He shoved his fingers into Frank’s mouth, forcing apart his jaws and letting Matt thrust his cock inside again. One hand kept Frank’s jaws wide open, so wide his jaw ached just a little, and the other was in his hair, keeping him still as Mistress fucked his mouth and throat.

God, fuck, it was good, he loved it. His cock throbbed and leaked, he could feel the precum soaking through his boxers, and his ass fucking  _ begged _ to be filled. But honestly? He couldn’t give less of a shit whether Matt fucked him or he fucked Matt. All Frank wanted, was to be good and get rewarded for it, he wanted to please Mistress, please Matt, cum for him like good boys do.

Matt shoved Frank to the floor again, after pulling his cock out of the marine’s throat again. Frank gasped for air; the spit drenched his chin and neck and all the way down to wet his shirt. Matt moaned over him, stroking his cock lazily.

“Oh, the mouth on you, Francis...”

He took mercy on Frank. He let Frank cough and gasp and choke for some moments, and regain his composure; though while Frank did that, Matt disappeared into the bedroom. Frank probably wouldn’t even have noticed,  _ his eyes were too cloudy with tears and his body still rocking with rough coughs and disgusting dry heaves, _ if it weren’t for the light  _ thunk _ sounds the man’s heels made as he walked. But the sounds, and the man who made them, returned rather soon, just in time for Frank to somewhat have regained control of his breathing.

He grunted at the feel of a boot coming to rest on his chest. Frank opened his eyes, blinking away the unshed tears, and stared up at his Mistress. God, he was beautiful. He groaned as the boot weighed a little heavier on him. Fuck, that felt good, why did that feel so good? The pressure, the weight, the position, the  _ being shoved down into the dirt and stepped on, _ fuck, why was it so fucking hot, why did his cock throb even harder? His heart seemed to be trying to break out of his chest it was beating so hard, as if it wanted to lick Mistress’ boot itself.

Matt stepped back. Frank could cry at the deep, cutting loss of the boot on his chest. Mistress sat down in his armchair. He slid down the seat until he was on the very edge, resting back on a big pillow, then lifted and spread his legs for Frank, laying his legs over either armrest. His ass still fucking  _ glistened _ with the remnants of Frank’s spit. Frank sat up, watching as if enchanted, as Matt showed him a bottle of lube. Oh,  _ that’s _ why he stopped by the bedroom so suddenly.

“Did you like that, baby?” Matt asked. He was pulling his gloves off, throwing them aside. “Did you like sucking my cock? Sucking your Mistress’ cock?”

He poured the lube out onto his fingers, and didn’t waste a moment in pressing two digits inside himself, moaning like magic.

“I did, Mistress.” Frank answered, staring at how those fingers seemed to slide perfectly in and out of Matt’s ass, slowly. “I loved it, Mistress. It was...I loved it.”

His voice was hoarse and raspy, worn from the rough treatment.

Frank’s eyes were locked on those slender fingers made of magic. He could only stare, mouth going dry and all breath leaving him. Matt moaned again as he slipped a third finger inside himself. Going by the slight hiss that he also let out, he wasn’t quite stretched enough for it yet, but Frank knew how Matt liked that slightest  _ sting _ of pain sometimes. He fucked himself slowly and patiently, moaning for Frank with every little motion.

“Do you promise to be a good boy next year, Francis?”

Frank swallowed the dryness in his throat, and nodded.

“I-I promise. I’ll be good, Mistress. I’ll be so good. I-I-I’ll be good all year, Mistress.” he swore so dearly.

That cruel grin filled Matt’s lips again.

“On your knees.”

Frank did as he was told, as fast as he could. He moved quickly from where he sat sprawling on the floor, to stand on his knees before his Mistress. But once there, he froze. What next? What did Mistress want him to do next?

He could feel his heart race even harder when Matt moaned again, at a particularly nice twist of his fingers.

“Closer.”

Frank shuffled closer on his knees. He came so close, that the damn tent in his sweats was nearly rubbing up on that perfect ass.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

He nodded again.

_ “Yes. _ Yes, Mistress. I wa- wanna fuck you, wanna  _ feel you, _ Mistress.”

He watched the fingers slip out of Matt’s hole. Fuck, it took all he had to  _ stay still, _ to stay motionless. He wasn’t allowed to move yet. He almost broke immediately, though, when Matt stroked his cock again and let out a divine little gasp.

“Well, take your cock out then.” Matt ordered, the mean smirk still shining on his lips.

The front of Frank’s sweatpants were just starting to get damp, the precum seeping through his boxers. He pushed both pants and boxers down to his thighs. His cock ached for touch, ached to feel Matt, Mistress, ached to make his Mistress feel good.

Matt  _ tsk- _ ed at him when he tried to give himself a few jerks, just something to take the burning edge of that desperate need. But, as if burned, Frank retracted his hands.

“Hands behind your head.”

Frank’s mouth watered like hell. He clasped his hands behind his head quickly.

Fuck, what the hell kind of moan was that, that left him when Matt’s fingers wrapped around his cock?

Matt guided Frank’s cock. Frank was pretty sure he was about to die, when Matt let the head press against his hole. It took a hell of a lot of determination for Frank to keep from moving a muscle. But Matt didn’t let Frank enter yet. He moved Frank’s cock, letting the head drag slowly up and down over Matt’s hole.

_ “Beg.” _

Frank could barely breathe. He stared wide-eyed at where their bodies met and moved against each other.

“Fuck,  _ please. _ P-Please, Mistress. Mistress, please,  _ please.” _

His voice sounded about as wrecked as he felt. His whole body was shaking, straining under the effort it took him to  _ stay still. _

His cock pressed on Matt’s rim again, and Matt moaned softly.

“You can do better, Francis.  _ Beg like you mean it.” _

Shit, he wanted to fucking die, and he would, if he didn’t get to be inside Matt soon.

“Please, Mistress. Please let me fu- fuck you. I wanna fuck you so bad, Mistress. Wan- Wanna make you feel good, make you cum, Mistress. Wanna, wanna be your good boy, Mistress. Wanna show you how good I am for you, Mistress.”

Matt let Frank’s cock lay against his own, hand wrapping loosely around them both. He rolled his hips as best he could, sliding his cock against Frank’s, fucking almost languidly into his hand.

“Tell me how bad you wanna be inside me.”

Frank squeezed his hands, pulled on his own hair, bit his tongue.  _ Fuck _ ...this was horrible and perfect and amazing and terrible, and he wanted to fucking die.

“Mis-Mistress, please,  _ please. _ Please, I-I wanna feel you, wanna fuck your ass,  _ perfect, beautiful ass, _ wanna make you feel good a-and make you cum, Mistress, just wanna be good, Mistress, please.”

He could feel the sweat dripping down his back, abs clenching tight as he tried to keep from moving.

Matt giggled at him, giving the marine’s cock a quick stroke just to kick him closer to the verge of tears again.

“I love i when you beg, baby. Say  _ pretty please.” _

A guttural groan left Frank, as Matt’s thumb swept over the head of his cock, smearing the precum down the length.

“Pretty please.”

“Again.”

“Pretty please.”

“Again.”

“P-Pretty please.”

Another evil giggle erupted from Matt, like fucking  _ music _ to Frank’s ears.

_ “Again.” _

_ “Pretty please! _ Pretty please, Mistress, please.”

The room seemed to turn into a total vacuum, when Matt let the head finally slip inside him. Frank couldn’t breathe, the air was ripped out of his lungs. Mistress moaned too, mouth falling open in a perfect O of awe.

Frank’s whole body lurched forward, hands gripping at the backrest of the chair to steady him somehow. He groaned so gutturally again, the noise shivering through him. Fuck, it was good, how the hell did it feel that good, fucking hell, oh, God.

He honestly wasn’t too surprised by the hard slap that landed across his face. He had disobeyed an order after all.  _ Hands behind your head. _ The words echoed in his head as the pain of the slap made him see stars for a moment, before subsiding.

“What did I tell you, Francis?” Mistress hissed.

The careful hold he still had on Frank’s cock, kept him from pushing any deeper than just the head.

Frank swallowed.

“Han- Hands behind my head.” he repeated, knuckles going white as he gripped the backrest. “Sorry, Mistress. S-Sorry. Sorry. I’m sorry, Mistress.”

He snatched his hands back. He gripped the hair at the back of his own head. Couldn’t let go again. If he did, Mistress might decide he didn’t deserve to cum, didn’t deserve to be rewarded.

Matt released his cock finally, allowing it to slide just the slightest bit deeper. He grabbed Frank’s shirt instead, pulling him in, pulling him closer.

“Fuck me, then. Come on, do it like you mean it, baby boy. Give it to me, make your Mistress moan, baby.”

Frank didn’t hesitate. God, he fucking wanted it. It was awkward as hell with his hands behind his head, it was hard to get a good angle and to find a rhythm, but goddamn, he didn’t fucking care. Fuck, it felt amazing, Matt felt amazing like this, he was beautiful, stunning, Frank never wanted it to end. Matt was clawing at his chest, pulling on his shirt, dragging him closer, Frank did his goddamn best to fuck him as hard and deep as he could. Matt let out breathy little moans at each thrust, so Frank had to be doing well enough.

The marine could hardly see anything beyond where his cock moved into Matt. His eyes were drawn elsewhere, though, when he felt a strange weight come to rest on his right shoulder. When he looked, Matt’s left foot rested there, the leather shining even in the low light.

_ “Ah, _ lick my fucking boot, baby.” Matt ordered. “Lick my boot while you fuck me,  _ yeah, keep going, baby, fuck!” _

Frank took the boot in his hands like it was made of glass. Fuck, the leather felt good under his tongue as he fucked Matt. The feel of Matt’s tightness and heat all around his cock, moving into his thrusts, and the smell and the taste of the leather and the feel of it in his hands. God, it was too fucking much, he couldn’t take much more of it, it was too good.

Matt’s nails dragged over Frank’s abs under his shirt. “You gonna cum, baby? You gonna be a good boy and cum for Mistress?” he questioned.

The marine groaned, tongue to the heel of the boot.  _ “Fuck, _ Mistress, please, Mistress,  _ Mistress, _ please lemme cum, please.” he pleaded.

He wasn’t prepared for how Matt shook off his hands again; nor, for how the heel stabbed into his chest as Matt kicked him.  _ Again, _ Frank fell back on the floor, a mildly pained groan leaving him as he hit the ground. He didn’t have even a moment to mourn having lost that perfect feeling of being inside Matt and having his tongue on that sexy fucking boot, before Matt was on him, before Matt was dragging his sweats further down his legs.

God, he could fucking  _ die, _ when he felt lubed fingers push at his rim and easily slip inside him.  _ Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck, suddenly there were two fingers toying with his prostate and one hand jerking his cock, and fuck, he couldn’t fucking take it any longer. Oh, fucking shit, then the fingers were somehow magically gone, and Matt’s perfect, amazing cock was inside him and it hurt a little since he wasn’t all that stretched for it but holy shit, Frank didn’t fucking mind, there was a hand at his throat and there came a rough slap across his cheek. _

“You fucking like that,  _ bitch? _ You like your Mistress’ cock inside you?” Matt hissed over him.

For some reason, Frank noticed the Santa hat still on Matt’s head. It was all slanted and the fuzzy ball at the end was bouncing all around. Matt seemed to be bothered by it as well. He tore it off his head, dragging Frank’s mouth open and shoving the felt of the hat into it, an improvised gag. Frank bit down on it, clawing at the floorboards, as Matt fucked him.

Matt let go of his throat. Somehow he managed to thrust and fuck into Frank  _ even harder _ than before, and  _ Frank was going to die. _ Matt grabbed his hair, dragging his head forward, making him stare down at where Matt’s cock was sliding inside him and his own cock was leaking onto his t-shirt.

“Look at that shit, baby, you’re so tight for me, feel so good on Mistress’ cock.” Matt hissed at him. “Mistress is gonna cum in this tight little ass,  _ this tight little whore hole. _ You wanna cum? Wanna cum on Mistress’ cock?”

Frank was  _ so happy _ for the improvised gag; it muffled all those dirty moans he knew he was letting out. Still, he nodded as best he could, hoping that was a good enough answer for the question, even as his insides were exploding with light and fire at how good he felt.

He watched Matt hand stroke his cock for two seconds, before...

Before the whole world went as white as snow.

“Merry Christmas Do-Over, baby boy.”

**Author's Note:**

> i had hoped to finish and post this sooner, BUT here we are, on january 1st (at least it is for me when im posting this)  
> i feel like the ending is kinda shit, but i dont care


End file.
